


Ocean: Message in a Bottle

by XenophonSpeaks



Series: Erejean Week [7]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:18:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3683055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XenophonSpeaks/pseuds/XenophonSpeaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first it was just curiosity, but it quickly became a bad habit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ocean: Message in a Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Day Seven of Erejean Week: Ocean
> 
> I suffer from depression. A lot of people have no idea, though, because I'm generally very happy and positive if you see me in person. In that sense I wrote Eren's character to be a lot like myself, so please try and look at his letters with the notion that he's depressed and most people have no idea. 
> 
> This may or may not be a feel trip. It was a feel trip to write it for reasons that are probably now obvious to you, but I'm also pretty biased in that regard. My only real goal with this was to write minor angst because most everything else I wrote for these prompts tended towards the very fluffy and happy.This DOES have a happy ending, though, because I really don't care for anything else.

Jean had been coming out to Trost Beach to surf since he could remember. His parents had always been big fans of visiting the ocean as much as possible, and from the time Jean cold hold a wake board, he’d been in the water drifting back and forth between the briny open ocean and gritty shore.

When he’d grown up, college had seemed like the logical option. Trost boasted one of the best universities on this side of the country, so when it had come time to apply to universities, Trost was a natural choice.

Jean had moved out of his parents’ house of course, even lived in the dorms for a couple of years. He had his own place now, though.

His own rules. King of his own roost.

Which probably explained why it was eight o’clock in the evening and Jean was still sitting on the beach, surf board lying abandoned in the sand beside him. He watched the sun slowly drift toward the horizon, the warmth of the sand fading beneath his hands and legs. Being able to watch the sun set over the water was a gift Jean had always treasured, though he had rarely been able to enjoy it over the last few years. Classes and dorm curfews often demanded that he surf in the early hours of the morning rather than later in the day. He was determined to use his newfound freedom to its fullest.

There was some commotion a little ways down the beach where a bunch of young people were saying their goodbyes. Jean had watched the group all day, being that he recognized several of the kids that made it up as people he had shared a class or two with over the last few years. One guy in particular was someone he was currently sharing an economy class with, always sitting at the front of the room and asking questions as if learning economy was the most important task he’d ever undertaken in his life.

Jean snorted quietly to himself. He didn’t understand people who had concrete goals beyond living a comfortable life with an easy job. As long as you passed and got the degree, who cared?

As he watched, the group seemed to pack up, finally done for the day. They all waved to the obnoxious guy in his class who apparently wasn’t ready to go home yet, still standing and staring out at the waves.

Something about him struck Jean as odd. Whenever he’d seen him in class, he’d been unusually determined to learn, even going so far as to argue theory with the professor on occasion. Now he just seemed kind of… melancholy, somehow. It made him uncomfortable. That was why he kept watching, Jean told himself.

After a few more minutes the guy stood up, grabbing something from the sand beside him. Jean recognized it as an empty wine bottle. As he watched, the guy rolled up what looked to be a piece of paper, stuffing it into the bottle and corking it before giving it a mighty toss out into the waves. Then he turned and walked away, hands stuffed into his pockets and head down.

 _Stupid. This is so stupid_ , Jean thought, grabbing his board and running for the waves to paddle out into the rapidly darkening water. It took him a good ten minutes but he finally found the bottle, grabbing it and slowly letting the surf drift him back toward the shoreline.

His heart was hammering as he flopped back down into the sand, pulling open the bottle and fishing out the note from inside. He knew what he was doing was wrong on several levels, but some part of him was so curious to learn about the guy he had never even spoken to directly that he couldn’t stop himself.

 _Dear mother,_ it began, and Jean immediately felt the shame of knowing he was prying. _I’m sorry. I wish you could be here to see me graduate next year. I know how important it was to you for me to finish school. It took me a couple of years to make it back, but I’m almost done with my bachelors now. I can get into med school soon. I’m going to save every life I possibly can, I promise. I’m going to make sure every person I come across with cancer is able to say they beat it. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do that in time to help save you. I miss you. I love you. –Eren_

He felt frozen, realizing that he had not only stumbled across something he shouldn’t have read but also something incredibly personal. Something he was not meant to read. Some part of him had expected to find some sort of dreadful love-letter he could laugh at, but this—this was not at all what Jean had bargained for.

He rolled the letter back up, hesitating a moment before ultimately stuffing it inside his wetsuit to take home. Somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to just throw it back out to sea.

Eren. His name was Eren.

-

The next day found Jean drawn back to the waves again. It was a Saturday, so he really had nowhere else to be. He felt restless after the day before, guilt stewing within him over what he most definitely shouldn’t have read. He tried to lose himself in the feel of the swelling water and crashing waves, hoping and failing to find the peace he usually did when in the vastness of the sea.

He was sitting down on the rocks looking out at the horizon as the sun began to set once again and was shocked to notice a familiar figure moving toward the waterline just a little ways further down the beach. Sure enough, as Jean watched he stuffed something into yet another empty bottle, corking it before throwing it out to sea and immediately turning to leave.

Jean was up and moving toward the water before he realized what he was even doing. He found it much quicker this time, paddling back to shore as fast as he could and tearing the cork off the bottle before he’d even sat down.

 _Everything seems so hard sometimes,_ it read, and Jean swallowed thickly, unable to stop himself from reading further. _Once mom died dad just left, not really saying anything to anyone. He sends money every month but I’ve barely seen him a handful of times in the last two years. Mikasa is all I have left and I don’t want to burden her with my own problems. She’s struggling hard enough to get her master’s and eventually PhD so she can do medical research. She’s never said so, but I know she plans to go into cancer treatment. Mom would be really proud of her. I wish I had someone else to lean on. –Eren_

Jean’s hands shook, his eyes reading the lines over and over. This didn’t sound anything like the guy in class. Something about that made Jean incredibly angry with himself. If he hadn’t read these letters that for all intents and purposes Eren had never intended for _anyone_ to read, Jean would never have guessed that he was anything but obnoxious and annoyingly determined to learn about micro economics. He would never have known Eren was suffering.

How many other people didn’t know, Jean wondered, folding the letter up and tucking it into his wetsuit. He picked up his board, making the trek back toward his car and eventually toward home.

How many other things did no one know about Eren?

-

It became an unhealthy habit. Every evening just before sunset, Jean would show up at the beach and wait, and every evening right at sundown, Eren would show up with an empty bottle and a note to toss to sea. It probably wasn’t entirely safe for Jean to continue wading out into darkening water to retrieve hard-to-find bottles, but he was entirely unable to stop himself.

 _I feel so stupid sometimes. Everyone around me seems to grasp things with ease and I’m always sitting there lost and full of questions._ Not true. Eren had one of the top grades in their econ class, Jean knew.

 _I don’t think anyone really likes me. I know I’m angry and stubborn, but it really hurts to think no one really gives a shit. Besides Armin and Mikasa. I’m lucky to have them._ Jean had no idea who Armin and Mikasa were, but he thanked them silently for taking care of someone who clearly both needed and deserved it.

Not all of the letters were so heavy, though. _I wish I knew how to cook. Eating nothing but ramen and sandwiches is going to make me fat._ Jean laughed aloud at that one. He’d seen Eren on the beach without a shirt, and Eren was probably the furthest thing from fat he could imagine.

 _I secretly wish I had someone to hold me. Even just someone to hold my hand would be so incredibly nice._ Jean’s first thought was that he would be happy to assist Eren. It caught him so off-guard that he nearly fell off the rock he’d been sitting on. In that instant he realized his feelings for Eren had morphed from curiosity to genuine affection without his notice or consent.

Jean also found himself unable to focus in econ anymore. He moved from the back of the auditorium to sit two rows from the front and to the edge of the room where his view of Eren was unhindered. His behavior was probably creepy and borderline stalking, he realized, but he was beginning to notice things about Eren after having read all of his letters that he wasn’t sure many other people did. Like how some mornings Eren seemed especially tired (he had dark circles under his eyes) or how Eren sometimes seemed to be angry about something (he would grip his pen just so, scribbling aimlessly in the corner of his notebook, often tearing a page in the process).

Jean’s collection of letters grew for several weeks before he finally worked up the nerve to approach Eren in class. Even then, the guilt he felt over knowing so much about him without his consent made Jean feel a crushing sense of shame.

“Hey,” he started one day after class, coming up to stand in front of Eren’s desk. “You’re Eren, right? You got one of the top scores on our last exam,” Jean said, fidgeting under Eren’s gaze because Jean had never realized just how green Eren’s eyes were or how penetrating his gaze could be. “I was wondering if you maybe had a study group that I could, you know… join.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Eren said, eyeing Jean strangely, “But who are you?”

“Oh. I’m Jean. Jean Kirschtein,” Jean said, thrusting out his hand and realizing he probably should have introduced himself in the first place. _Stupid,_ he chided himself mentally.

Eren grasped his hand firmly, his eyes betraying nothing of the inner conflict and self-doubt that threaded itself through every one of the letters Jean had read. “I’m Eren Jaeger. And yeah, we have a study group. I’m sure no one would mind if you tagged along.”

Guilt twisted in Jean’s heart like a knife, but he smiled, exchanging information with Eren over when and where the next study session would be before leaving the classroom and heading toward his car.

He could still feel the sensation of Eren’s hand warm and firm against his own.

-

Jean’s unhealthy habit continued in much the same way it had before they’d really met.

 _I’m worried I’m going to do poorly on my next exam. If my grades fall it’ll be really hard for me to get into med school._ Jean almost felt bad for asking Eren to help him study.

 _I wish people invited me out more. I feel like everyone is scared of me and I don’t know how to fix it._ He was pretty intimidating somehow, Jean conceded. More unapproachable than anything else, really. He just didn’t seem to want to be bothered. Jean decided he’d have to ask Eren out to do something sometime. Maybe spend a day at the beach or something.

One evening Eren showed up and sat in the sand for a long time, which had not previously been a regular part of his routine. After a while the shaking of his shoulders made Jean’s stomach clench. His fingers gripped the rock he was seated on, everything in him urging him to get up and do something but also unwilling to admit to what he had secretly been learning.

He knew Eren was crying.

The bottle that night was especially hard to find, but Jean was determined to read it no matter how long it took to find. It was so dark by the time he made it out of the water that he had to find a street lamp to stand under to make out the words.

_I don’t want to be alone anymore. –Eren_

Jean dropped his head into his hands, not bothering to hide the hot tears that fell from his face to mix with the ocean water that still dripped from his hair.

He should have said something.

-

The next day in class he noticed Eren staring at him. Jean wasn’t sure what to make of it, nodding politely when he caught Eren doing it for the fourth time during lecture—a feat in and of itself considering how Eren had to turn halfway around to look at him where he was seated out of his direct line of sight.

Eren approached him almost the moment class let out.

“Hey, Jean,” Eren said nonchalantly. That made Jean tense, because if Eren was one thing it was rarely nonchalant.

“Yo,” he said casually, putting away his things and refusing to look Eren in the eye. “What’s up?”

When Eren didn’t respond after a moment, Jean was forced to look up. He found Eren staring at him unreadably but with great intensity.

“We’re having a study session this weekend for the exam that’s coming up next Friday. Wondered if you still wanted to come,” he finally said after a long moment. Jean breathed an internal sigh of relief.

“Awesome. I’m definitely up for that,” he said, standing and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Still at the same place you mentioned before?”

Eren nodded, still looking at him strangely.

“Great. Then I’ll, uh, see you later,” Jean said, giving a quick little half-wave before practically running off.

 _Idiot!_ he thought to himself. _You should have said something!_ But he’d been caught so unprepared that he wasn’t sure what to say or how to even say it.

-

Later that evening found Jean once again perched on his rock, surf board at hand. He watched as the sun set, hands fisted into the pockets of his swim trunks. He often didn’t felt like wearing his wetsuit if he was only going to be in the water for a few minutes, and tonight was one of those nights.

When Eren showed up and began walking toward the water, Jean felt like something was off. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, though. Eren threw his bottle and walked away like usual, and Jean grabbed his board, kicking off his shoes and shirt before diving into the waves.

It took him about fifteen minutes this time but he eventually found it, drifting back in the fading light. He used his shirt to mop most of the water off of himself, his trunks plopping down on the sand with a wet sound as he sat and pulled out the letter.

 _I think some asshole has been snooping into shit he has no business reading,_ it said.

Jean felt an icy spike of fear shoot down his spin, whipping his head around to find Eren stalking toward him angrily.

He stood up, completely at a loss and entirely sure that he was about to get the verbal and potentially physical beat down of his life.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Eren started, shoving him hard in the chest, “Gives you the right to read this shit?”

“I’m sorry!” Jean cried, casting about for a valid reason or explanation for his actions and finding none.

“How long?” he demanded, shoving Jean back another step. Eren looked like he was torn between a desire to kick his ass and a desire to cry.

Jean realized there was no sense in hiding anything at this point. “About two months,” he admitted.

Eren froze, clearly not expecting that. “You’ve been reading everything I’ve written for the last two months?”

Jean nodded.

Eren punched him square in the face.

“How _dare_ you? What gives you the right?” he yelled as Jean stumbled back, one hand reaching out to catch himself and the other gingerly touching his face, coming up with a smear of red. He could feel the split in his lip but he doubted it was anything too serious.

When Eren pulled back with his fist as if he meant to hit him again, Jean lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Eren in a crushing hug.

“I am so, so sorry,” he babbled, honesty and a sincere desire to fix things spurring him to keep talking. “I knew it was wrong the first time I did it but I couldn’t stop myself. I was just really worried about you. It didn’t feel right for you to throw away your feelings and have no one recognize them or even read them.”

He felt Eren slowly ease in his arms, his fist falling to his side. Jean was pretty sure he was getting blood all over Eren’s nice white shirt but he didn’t move to let go, only readjusted to hold Eren a bit more tenderly.

“I know you have basically no idea who I am and I feel really weird about that,” Jean said, fingers curling in the back of Eren’s shirt. “I just want you to know that I really, really care about you and I want to make you feel better, even if it’s just a little. Even if it’s just by listening.”

He felt Eren begin to shake in his arms and when he felt wetness against his shoulder he was certain it wasn’t ocean water.

“Just please don’t throw away your feelings anymore.”

Eren’s arms came up to wrap around Jean, holding him against him so hard it was nearly painful. Jean didn’t stop him. He just rubbed his back slowly and let Eren cry quietly against his shoulder.

After a while Eren seemed to calm down, his shaking stopping and morphing into sniffles.

“That’s fucking dangerous, you know,” he said sullenly, pulling back to level Jean with a glare. “You shouldn’t be out in the water when it’s that dark. You could have drowned.”

Jean shrugged, tonging at gash in his mouth nervously.

“Did you really read all of that for two whole months?” Eren asked quietly, staring fixedly at Jean’s bloody lip.

“Every day,” Jean said quietly.

“But _why_?” Eren asked somewhat desperately, searching Jean’s expression for something logical. Jean simply shrugged again, looking out at the dark churning water.

“Dunno. It just seemed worth it.”

Jean felt warm fingers against his jaw, his eyes widening in shock as Eren reached up to kiss the corner of his mouth that was injured.

“Sorry. About punching you, I mean,” he mumbled. Jean couldn’t look away from the small spot of his own blood now marring Eren’s tanned face.

“I think I deserved that,” he said distractedly.

Eren smiled, and despite the fact that the sun had just set Jean felt warmed from the inside out. “Maybe. It was a bit creepy,” he agreed.

 _I hope this isn’t creepy,_ Jean thought, pulling Eren against him again and tentatively touching his mouth to Eren’s own. When Eren’s lips moved against his with more confidence than Jean felt, he thought his heart would burst.

They separated after a moment, both looking flushed and thoroughly embarrassed. Jean turned around to collect his things, pulling his damp shirt over his head and tucking the letter into its pocket to take home and keep with all the others.

“So,” Eren said awkwardly as they walked back toward the parkinglot. “I really don’t know much about you. That’s kind of unfair.”

Jean reached out and grabbed Eren’s hand with his own, his surfboard tucked under his other arm. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Eren looked from Jean’s hand clasped around his own to Jean’s face, clearly startled but with a dawning look of happiness. “Nothing, really.”

“Then how about I take you out for lunch and you can ask me whatever you want to know,” Jean said, giving his hand a squeeze.

Eren squeezed back, grinning. “I think I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Want to be tumblr buddies? Come and say hello. xenophonspeaks.tumblr.com


End file.
